Perfect Image
by AngelBee88
Summary: Her dad left her mother, and her mother left her. Now it’s her turn to leave and save herself. Continued off of lilyqueen777's A Dad's Wish
1. The Choices We Make

Disclaimer: I don't own any copyrighted characters.

Story: Perfect Image

Email Me At: Authoress: lilyqueen777

Continued Off: A Dad's Wish

A/n: BTW, I'm a Junior/Kris shipper, but in this story, it seems the boat has sunken…

Summary: Her dad left her mother, and her mother left her. Now it's her turn to leave and save herself.

Word Count: 4,561

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**Chapter One**

**The Choices We Make

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**

"_Kristine… Kristine Amalia Furillo…" The 4-year-old squinted and looked up at her father._

"_Papa?" She whispered, her brown eyes wide._

Kris awoke with a start. Her heart continued to pound in her chest, and she threw the sheets off her sweaty body as she trudged over to the small countertop and filled a glass with tap water.

Leaning against the counter for support, she glanced around her, then at the clock. It was still dark out, at 1'am.

"Damnit." She muttered to herself. The dream was nothing if not stupid. She had never known her father, and didn't plan on meeting him in the future. Not to mention no one at Raintree, with the exception of Jean and Pablo, knew her full name.

Pablo… She laughed when she remembered walking in on him and whatshername. It had been a bit shocking at the time, not to mention disturbing, but all in all, it gave her and Matt a series of good laughs.

Matt Ritter. God, he infuriated her so much. Jesus, everybody was infuriating her as of late. Junior, Pablo, Jean, (although she'd never tell or show her that.)… It was ridiculous.

Junior. She broke up with Junior because… because… Oh God. She loved him, but she didn't have feelings for him. She loved him… But she couldn't stand it. He had made her cry so much the day she thought he was dead. It was just too much when he showed up again, unscathed and unharmed. She couldn't handle his kind of love—and she was sick and tired of being the one who had to try and fit in. Sometimes, with Junior, it felt like she was there to prove that Junior wasn't his father. And she didn't want to be leverage. Not again.

Matt was different. He wasn't attracted to her, he was attracted to the _thought_ of her. Jailbird, dangerous, mysterious… everything that she wasn't. Except the jailbird part. That was partially true.

Pablo. What was up with Pablo?

Kris gave a dry laugh. Pablo was Pablo. He sometimes acted like the father she never had, and she resented him a bit for that. He was able to make her bow her head in shame with a single sentence, and somehow possessed the means to make her pine for his acceptance. She hadn't had that problem with anybody before, save her mother. What made Pablo so special?

Then… There was Jean. She meant well, she really did. Jean was an amazing person—all the Ritters were. But somehow, Jean had been able to salvage a bit of herself in Kris, and Kris found herself trying to live up to Jean's expectations. Seriously, though. How did Jean Ritter, mother of two sons, manage to find some similarities between herself and Kristine "Jailbird" Furillo?

Kris glanced back over at the clock, almost as if willing the hands to move forward. 2'am. She had been up an hour. There was no going back to sleep at this point.

She heaved a sigh and placed the glass of water in the sink before kneeling down and rifling through her drawers. Shrugging out of her ripped T-shirt and sweatpants, she yanked on a pair of jeans and a black short sleeved T, and pulled on a pair of wool socks. From the frost on the window, she bet that it was probably a cold morning.

Stepping into her tennis shoes, Kris exited her trailer and walked towards the stables. Looked like Wildfire was getting an early visit.

Entering the barn, Kris allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim light that illuminated the place. Three stalls down was where she was headed.

Kris silently made her way to the paddock and slipped in. Wildfire looked at her through hooded eyelids, and gave a soft whicker.

"Hey boy. I'm gonna be with you for a while. That alright?" Kris asked quietly, observing him. He seemed to know exactly what she was on about, because his head bobbed slightly, making her smile.

**-**

Pablo made his way around the stables, but stopped when he heard her voice.

He didn't say anything as she entered the stall, or as she talked to Wildfire in soothing tones. She was more like him than she knew, and that unnerved him, to say the least.

Leaning against the wall of the entrance to the stables, he folded his arms across his chest, lost in thought. She looked so much like her mother, though. Instead of blonde hair, she had brown, and instead of hazel blue eyes, she possessed dark mahogany eyes. The prominent features were both his and… Her mother's. Even at this point, he couldn't bring himself to say her mother's name.

Needless to say, it was the little details that struck him most. Her nose and the shape of her eyes were her mother's. The coloring was purely his, which gave him a sort of satisfaction that only your flesh and blood could give you.

He remembered when he first got the news. His fiancée was pregnant. It had startled him, and he had gone outside for a breather. Pablo gave a quiet, dry laugh, making sure to not give his presence away. 19-years-old, limelight, Pablo Betart.

Was He…

Involved In A Gang? _Yes_.

Wrecked Over Becoming A Father? _Yes._

A Familiar Face With The Police? _Yes._

Not Thinking When He Jacked That Car? _Yes._

Drugged With Stupid When He Got Involved In The Gunfight Off Boulevard? _Yes._

Freaked Out When The Judge Sentenced Him To A Year? _Yes._

Did He…

Leave And Never Look Back When He Got Out? _Yes.

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_

**Dedicated To: _Lilyqueen777_**

_-Thanks for letting me continue this!-_


	2. Backwards and Forwards

Disclaimer: I don't own any copyrighted characters.

Story: Perfect Image

Email Me At: Authoress: lilyqueen777

Continued Off: A Dad's Wish

A/n: BTW, I'm a Junior/Kris shipper, but in this story, it seems the boat has sunken…

Summary: Her dad left her mother, and her mother left her. Now it's her turn to leave and save herself.

Character Count: 6,948

_Chapter One, I said that the number was a word count. I lied. It's actually a character count, minus spaces._

A/n:

6:54, February 25th, 2006:

What really set me off to update sooner was _GreenEyed_'s review. I was really slacking, so this chapter in particular is dedicated to _GreenEyedBabe09_ for kind of giving me the kick in the ass I needed to start writing again.

_**mowrocks**: Sorry that part was a bit confusing. I should've elaborated. She's confused about her feelings. It's kind of my way of projecting Kris's personal chaos wars onto the page without saying as much. Does that clear it up a bit? Thanks for the review._

_**JennCorinthos**: Here's the second chapter. Don't worry—I'm going to follow this one through._

_**Spuffy-Spike-91**: Cool. I'll keep you to that._

_**GreenEyedBabe09**: I'm enthused by the enthusiasm your showing, LOL. Thanks._

_**GreenEyedBabe09**: I'm so sorry. I got your review today, (well, my today anyhow), and I have got to say, I have been so busy, it hasn't even been funny. I can promise you that I'll follow this story through, though, and I'll be updating more regularly around March or so._

_**Wannabejockey101**: I think this chapter will answer your questions._

_**Lily**: Yep. You're the only email that I've gotten in a while that wasn't from one of my professors demanding homework as of late… Catchya Later!_

**

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Chapter Two

**Backwards and Forwards 

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**

Glancing at the old clock on the wall, Pablo shook his head, as if trying to clear it of the thoughts that muddled his mind.

Kris hadn't stopped talking to Wildfire, and to be quite honest, her steady voice was a bit comforting. He listened in on a bit of the one-sided conversation she continued with the horse and almost laughed when she mentioned something about boys.

To mention boys, he thought back to when Junior and Matt first saw her. It was amusing, to say the least, when she turned them both flat down. She was so much like her mother in that aspect. To tell the truth, he had been satisfied to know that his daughter wasn't someone who gave herself freely, but what could he expect? She had grown up with a mother on steroids and Ecstasy, and who knew how much alcohol the woman had drunk during her pregnancy?

Kris had to know how to fend for herself and keep herself protected. If she didn't, she probably would've been on the streets or in some foster home. Where her mother lacked influence, her father's traits took over.

Jail? That was his trait. A knack for getting into trouble? Uh… yeah. His trait too.

The steady whisper of Kris's voice slowly faded with time, and Pablo knew the signs of a sleeping person when he heard them. Kristine Amalia Furillo was definitely a sleeping person.

Pablo walked over to Wildfire's stall and peered in. Yep. She was conked out on the haystack. Motioning with his index finger to his mouth, he willed the Thoroughbred to stay quiet as he swiftly and efficiently grabbed a wool blanket from the stack near the entrance of the barn and haphazardly set it over the sleeping 19-year-old. She would freeze out in what she was wearing, heated stables or no heated stables. She wasn't a horse, despite what Kris may have thought of herself.

"Papa…" She muttered, tossing in her sleep, and for a moment, Pablo stared upon her face, paralyzed.

Willing himself to drop the matter—she was only dreaming—, he gave the sleepy racehorse a small pat and walked away.

-

Kris woke up again, this time to the sun shining brightly slanted across her face, temporarily blinding one eye as she opened it against the white beam.

"Get enough sleep?" Pablo questioned, smirking, as he leant over the side of the stall.

Kris scowled. "Yes, thanks." She retorted snippily. Needless to say, sleeping on a haystack, with her neck bent in a weird angle did nothing to improve her morning chirpiness.

"Glad to hear it." Pablo said, handing her one of the coffee's he held and a glazed doughnut. "Go get a coat and your riding gear. You're warming up War-Drum Flat this morning." At Kris's disheveled appearance, he felt the need to encourage her to get moving. "C'mon!" He motioned towards the gate and walked off, his own coffee in one hand, the other hand grabbing a rope off the side of the barn.

Kris made a face at his retreating back and summed up the energy to jump over the gate, with her doughnut in her mouth and the coffee in her right hand. Talk about gymnastics.

Running to her trailer, she polished off the doughnut and took small, tentative sips of the coffee. It was black, fresh, and hot as hell.

"Grabbing my coat, where's my coat, where's my coat, there's my coat! Grabbed my coat…" Kris sloppily set her coffee down on the table and shrugged on the coat. "Ahh…" She sighed with relief. Her coat was warm, and as of late, she liked warm.

Picking up her coffee once more, she rushed out of the trailer, taking note to lock the door behind her as she scurried away.

"_I'm here!_" Kris announced breathlessly as she made it to the arena on time. Pablo checked his watch. Exactly on time. It was 6:45 and 30 seconds until the next minute.

"Aaron, bring out 'Drum." Pablo instructed, and the stable boy nodded before returning shortly with a gorgeous thoroughbred, 17 hands and a dark brown so dark it was almost black. He bore an impeccable resemblance to his grandsire, Battlefield.

Kris couldn't seem to wipe off the ridiculously silly grin that seemed to have permanently attached itself to her face, and eventually stopped trying to fight it off and let it sit.

"He's gorgeous." She commented a bit breathily, her eyes glowing with excitement. War-Drum Flat wasn't as great as Wildfire, Kris thought to herself stubbornly, but he definitely ran a close second.

"That he is." Pablo agreed dryly, and handed the already saddled and tacked up horse to Kris, who gladly accepted the reigns.

"Now, just breeze him first. 2nd lap down, bring him up a notch, say it back to me." Pablo instructed, and Kris nodded intently. She knew everything could go wrong if she didn't pay attention to Pablo's instructions. He was definitely more experience in the matter than she was.

"2 laps, speed." She repeated, and Pablo nodded as she mounted and rode into the arena.

"Go." He started the timer.

Kris went.

¤

The workout had been good—for both 'Drum_ and_ herself. Kris had blown off some steam that she didn't even know was driving her.

"You still have room for improvement—so don't let this one workout go to your head." Pablo warned, and Kris resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. Every compliment of his was always matched with a bash.

In truth, Kristine Amalia Furillo's insecurities could eat her alive. Twice.

"Thanks, Pablo. I'll keep that in mind." She ground out, making a beeline for the Ritter house.

"You do that." Pablo nodded and made a left over to the stables.

Kris shook her head. But what could she expect? Pablo was like her conscience, but worse. He didn't even give her _half_ a second to gloat over her accomplishments. Just because this was one of her best workouts yet didn't change the fact that Pablo Betart somehow managed to take the pleasure out of just about everything.

"Hey Matt." She greeted her friend as he passed her by, engrossed in the book he held. "What're you reading? Anything stupid?"

"As a matter of fact, no. This is a highly articulated volume that explains economics as more than just money and cash." Matt retorted, and Kris blinked at him, a blank look on her face.

"Money and cash?" She questioned dubiously.

"Err…" Matt flushed down a 3 deep shades that only he could accomplish.

"You should stay around Dani. That way, you two can be stupid together." Kris joked, and Matt frowned, affronted.

"Are you calling me stupid?" He asked, a confused expression on his face.

"Way to go, Einstein." The 19-year-old girl rolled her eyes.

Matt looked seriously peeved now. "First you call me stupid, and now you're calling me Einstein. If anything, you're the most hypocritical person I've ever met." He accused, and Kris looked bemused.

"Is that you're way of calling me stupid?" She laughed.

The confounded expression reappeared on his face.

* * *

**Dedicated To: _Lilyqueen777_**

**END NOTE: **Well, I decided that everyone deserved at least a shadow of an explanation as to why I wasn't updating as of late... or why I'm so damn slow. I didn't want the people who didn't want my excuses to have to read this crap, so I put it on the bottom of the page instead. Here goes:

Yes. That's really what happened. It was tragic for me too, I know.


	3. Fairy Dust

Disclaimer: I don't own any copyrighted characters.

Story: Perfect Image

Email Me At: Authoress: lilyqueen777

Continued Off: A Dad's Wish

A/n: BTW, I'm a Junior/Kris shipper, but in this story, it seems the boat has sunken…

Summary: Her dad left her mother, and her mother left her. Now it's her turn to leave and save herself.

Character Count: 7,247

A/n:

_**mowrocks**: Yeah. I had her pegged at 18, then I finished writing the last chapter and reread it about 800 times before deciding to play safe and go with 19 because I didn't know when her birthday was, so I really had no clue if she'd be turning 19 in next week's episode or what. College… Hmm… Maybe. Anyways, I'll change it back to 18 as soon as I get the chance. I've been haggling in-between for a bit._

_**Fortunetellers Melody**: Here's that update…_

_**GreenEyedBabe**: Enthusiasm is one of things I thrive on._

_**Malfoy's Fair Maiden:** This is the update. I'm afraid it was neither soon nor very long to make up for the time lost. I'm really sorry. Work has been hectic, and I can barely find time to breathe. I'll try to update more often, I really will. For now, I forsee this story being at least 15 chapters, at most 40. I know. Huge difference, but I barely began with it, so in a few more updates, I'll be sure to give you a more definative answer._

**

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Chapter Three

**Fairy Dust

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**

"OK… Stop being mean. The coffee machine broke on me, so I don't have any caffeine in my system, and the house is low on sugar. Go easy on me." Matt finished, and Kris gave him a sympathetic look.

"That would explain why you're being so stupid right now." Kris mused, and Matt scowled.

"Coffee deprivation can do that to people." He defended himself.

"I'm sure it can." Kris assured him with a pat on the shoulder and walked into the Ritter household.

"Hi, Kris. How's it going?" Charlie asked, passing her by, and Kris shrugged.

"Pretty good, thanks. You know how Pablo can be." She gave a light laugh.

Charlie nodded before continuing out the door.

"He's always around." Matt informed her as they made their way to the kitchen. "Always. He has a million dollar home, and he barely ever lives in it. Instead, he hangs around here. It's really getting on my nerves. Not to mention he's taken a liking to talking to me about how he's proud of my turnaround."

Kris sat down at the table and waited for Matt to do the same before starting up. "He's really getting on your nerves, isn't he?" She winced, and Matt's scowl only grew deeper.

"Depends on what you mean by 'getting on my nerves'. If you're referring to the way he seems to enjoy acting nice every damn time I do something wrong, then yes. If you mean that it's just me being selfish and this is a common stage for kids who have divorced parents, then no. First of all, I'm 19 and I'm in college. Second… well… there is no second, because I know that that's not what you meant." Matt finished, and Kris just looked at him.

"Yeah. I meant the first one." She confirmed, and Matt scratched his head a little sheepishly.

"That's what I thought."

Kris's eyes wandered around the room and fell on the clock. "Damn, I need to go. Sorry Matt. I'll see you later, alright?" She asked frantically gathering all her stuff together. Checking to make sure she had her cell phone and riding schedule, she bolted out the door.

"Bye to you too." Matt grumbled to an empty room, and stood up.

-

Kris scanned the area for Pablo's familiar face.

"Pablo?" She quickly caught up with him. "I need a favor."

"What kind of favor?" He questioned, his arms folded across his chest like they always were when he was waiting for her to say something to make him respond with a no.

"I was going to visit a friend at LeGrange, and I thought maybe you could drive me…?" She trailed off and sighed. "Forget it."

Pablo gave a small smile. "I'll drive you." He said, and Kris's eyes widened as she looked up.

"You're serious?" She questioned, the disbelief in her voice obvious.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He shot back, and Kris jumped up and gave him a hug.

"Thanks! Thank you!" She said, beaming. She couldn't wait to see Gabby.

-

The next day rounded the corner soon enough, and Kris found she couldn't bring herself to sleep.

_I'm going to see Gabby. I'm going to see Gabby._ The verse played in her mind repeatedly, and she lay wide awake in the bed, her eyes wide.

When the sun rose, she couldn't get out of bed any quicker. Saturdays always were her favorite. Sundays she had to work thru Friday, with the exception of Wednesdays. Wednesdays were also good, unless, of course, Jean needed her to do something or fill in for somebody. As much as Kris resented admitting to it, Wednesdays weren't an official day off for her. They just happened to be slow days.

"Pablo!" She called, knocking furiously on the trainer's door. She was practically dancing on her toes. "PABLO!" She called, this time louder than the last. "You there?"

A lazy drawl she knew all too well spoke up from behind her.

"If you'd stop banging my door down, I'd be able to tell you to get into the car. Now; _get into the car_." Pablo ordered her, and Kris flushed as she slowly spun around on her heels.

"Sorry." She muttered, down three shades of red.

"No use apologizing. Let's go." Pablo said, and Kris willingly obliged, still a bit embarrassed.

Jogging to catch up with his long strides, she looked at him through the side of her eyes.

"Why do you always wear the same coat?" She asked, her face scrunched up in question.

"It's comfortable." He replied shortly, and Kris cast her gaze downwards once more.

"Oh."

She climbed into the truck and waited patiently as Pablo started the engine.

"So who you visiting?" Pablo spoke up, shattering the silence as he reversed the car into drive.

"Uhhh…" Kris began stupidly. She winced upon hearing her own voice. She sounded like an idiot. "Ummm…"

Pablo cast a curious glance her way.

"Gabby." Kris put down finally. "You know, Gabriela Fisher?" She mumbled the last part, and Pablo's eyebrows shot up.

"The murderer?" He asked, his voice impassive.

Kris glowered at him, and he sat back.

"You still worked up over that?" He inquired quietly, and Kris turned her head in shame.

"No. Sorry. I really _do_ trust you, Pablo." She whispered, regret taking its place in her voice. "Hell, you're like a dad to me."

Pablo's grip tightened on the steering wheel, and he mentally cursed as he narrowly avoided swerving off the road.

"Sorry." He replied at Kris's unnerved look. "Thought I saw a crow." He said, tactfully avoiding her last comment.

Kris looked satisfied with this answer, and visibly relaxed.

"Yeah. Anyways, I mean what I say." She told him. Pablo was the closest to a father figure that she'd ever had.

"So, what're you going to talk to Fisher about?" Pablo inquired noncommittally.

"Oh, you know. Just say hi." Kris replied, staring down at her hands as she wrung them.

"Hi." Pablo repeated, clearly not believing her.

"Yeah… you know… hi." Kris responded, her eyes darting around the truck nervously.

"Sure." Pablo agreed, and Kris winced.

"Yep." She seconded.

Pablo rolled his eyes.

"Cut the shit, Kris. Now why the hell're you visiting a girl like Fisher? She's guilty of her crime, and she never expressed any regret or loss. That girl murdered her _father_, Kris." Pablo snapped, and Kris's eyes flashed.

"It was never proven!" She shot back, and Pablo fought back another roll of his eyes.

"Of course it wasn't. Just because her finger prints were on the gun, she admitted it to 3 friends, one of them being yourself, and did it in front of a crowd… Now, that doesn't mean that she did it. After all, she could've been _possessed_ or someshit." He retorted, and Kris bit her lip.

"She had a reason to." Kris argued feebly, and Pablo nodded disbelievingly.

"You'd like to share with us today what her reasons were, Kristy?" He asked, his voice clearly fake and tone mocking.

Kris set her focus on the road and stayed silent for a moment before starting up once more.

"Only she can tell you." She said softly.

Pablo didn't answer.

-

Pulling into LeGrange, Pablo studied Kris's face carefully for any signs of discomfort. It had to be strange coming back after so long, this time having no excuse of professions to support her.

She just stared stoically at where a group of girls were jogging on the track, in LeGrange sweatpants.

She still had hers.

Kris opened the door and walked out, hugging her arms around herself, as if trying to protect and ward off the unseen.

Unseen dangers.

Unseen remembrances.

Unseen revelations.

Undiscovered.

Her breathing steadied, and Pablo followed her out to the main building. Luckily, it was a visiting day, so they wouldn't have to worry about getting kicked out.

Not to mention that basically everybody from LeGrange—occupants as well as staff—knew her name, face, and profile after the little stunt she had pulled her last visit.

They signed their names and Kris flashed her ID as Pablo gave his driver's license and picture ID. He still worked at the stables LeGrange rented from time-to-time.

"So, who did you say you were going to visit?" The lady at the desk questioned, looking as if she had seen better days.

"Gabriela Michaels-Fisher."

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**Dedicated To: _Lilyqueen777_**

_-Thanks for letting me continue this!-_


End file.
